


An Autograph

by MysticalAdventurer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Camera, Wizarding World, autograph, first year, photograph
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticalAdventurer/pseuds/MysticalAdventurer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>19 years after the Second Wizarding War, a certain 1st Year boy wants Mr. Harry Potter's autograph.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Autograph

I closed my eyes and stepped through the brick wall.  When I opened them, my mother was beside me with my cart, and we were on _Platform 9 ¾_.  I gazed around me in awe, taking in the sights.  The _Hogwarts Express_ had just pulled into the station, and smoke clouded my view. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”  My mother asked, putting an arm around my shoulders.  I nodded silently, smiling nervously up at her.  “I wish Daddy were here,” I whispered.  “Me too,” my mother sighed, “but you know he was called into work today.”  I exhaled.  My father was a journalist for the _Daily Prophet_.  In my opinion, it was the best job in the world.  I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. 

I was about to start my first year at _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_.  My heart was practically beating out of my chest.  I felt an uncontrollable grin begin to spread across my face as we approached the train.  A porter took my cart, and rolled it away, towards the baggage car, I presumed.  I was about to board the _Hogwarts Express_ , when I noticed a couple walking with their children along the platform.  I squinted, making sure I was definitely seeing what I thought I was seeing.  “Mummy,” I said, jumping back onto the platform. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Is that…  Mr. Harry Potter?”

My mother glanced the family’s way.  She blinked.  “Why, yes,” she breathed.  “Oh, Mummy, can I get his autograph?”  I asked, hopping up and down.  She frowned at me for a moment.  Then she sighed.  “Well, I suppose so,” she began, unable to finish before I bolted off in that direction. 

I slowed down as soon as I came within ten feet of the family.  “Excuse me, sir,” I called out breathlessly, “Are you Mr. Harry Potter?”  The father stopped.  “Yes,” he said, pushing his glasses up his nose, and gesturing for his family to continue walking.  I smiled hesitantly, “May I have your autograph?”  Mr. Potter smiled down at me.  “Of course,” he said, taking my small pad and pen.  However, before he put ink to paper, he went very still, staring at my chest. 

“Where did you get that?”  He asked.  I looked down.  I had my camera around my neck.  “It was my uncle’s, sir,” I said timidly.  He gazed up at me.  “What is your name, young man?”  He whispered. 

“Colin Creevey Jr., sir.”  Mr. Potter did not say anything, just stared at me.  I continued speaking.

“I am named after my Uncle Colin, who died in the Second Wizarding War.  He was the older brother of my father, Dennis.”  Mr. Potter glanced at his shoes.  I put a tentative hand on his arm.  “My Daddy claims you knew my uncle,” I said, “that you two were friends.”  Mr. Potter chuckled sadly.  “We were,” he said quietly.  We stood there for a minute, wordlessly.  Finally, I broke the silence. 

“So,” I said, “may I still have your autograph?” 

Mr. Potter shook his head.  “I have something better,” he said.  I cocked my head at him.  Slowly, he reached around my neck, and took off my camera.  Mr. Potter crouched down beside me, and turned the camera lens towards us.  “Smile,” he said.  Confused, I smiled.  With a click, he took a picture of the two of us.  Turning the camera back around, he waved his wand and immediately two copies of the photo popped out of the back. 

He took one copy and handed me the other.  With my pen, he signed it, and had me sign the photo I was holding.  Mr. Potter smiled at me.  He handed me the copy with his autograph, and took the one with mine.  “Now we have each other’s autograph,” he said kindly.  I gazed up at him with admiration.  I watched him tuck our photo into his inside pocket, right by his heart.  His knees cracked as he stood back up again.  He stuck out his right hand.  I shook it humbly. 

With one last gentle smile, he walked away.  I realized I had been holding my breath this entire time, and exhaled heavily.  “Mr. Potter is quite an unusual wizard,” I heard my mother say behind me.  I said nothing, just nodded.  _He sure is_. 

 

 


End file.
